Three Things Toris Saw And the One Thing He Wish
by Saya-Sama
Summary: In which Toris tries to protect Feliks' purity and-just barely-suceeds. Lithuania with minor France/Poland


**For Tikula. Goodness, there really wasn't much on this, no matter what I did I could never find much more than a blurb about any of the things I looked up... That makes the Polish quarter of my heart weep. Also...this was supposed to be crack, but I don't really think it reached that level of lulziness. It kept trying to get serious on me D: But well, no matter~! Enjoy it as it is, and feel free to nit-pick, it fashions me into a better author.**

.004

"Oh my gosh, they're like, so cute!" Feliks is half-leaning out the window in the corridor, looking down at the precession as their new king makes his way through Weilka Walo. At this rate, he is going to be late to the coronation, and if he is late then Toris will be late, too. Somehow the Lithuanian doesn't think that Francis, or the man he's bringing to their home to be their king, will be very pleased with them if they are late.

And yet, it was really just too impossible to rush Feliks. "Come on Liet, look at them, they're almost as cute as me! _Almost_." Toris sighs and humors his friend, walking to the window to see what his friend was seeing.

"Almost as cute as you, huh?" He asks lightly as he sticks his head out of the opening. Feliks points to where he should look, and he almost immediately identifies the two that have caught his partner's interest.

'_Oh, you've got to be kidding me.' _

They are both dressed ridiculously. Well, Francis probably calls it fashionable, and it seems that Feliks is inclined to agree. But…their clothing… so _unchaste_! And he is too far away to see their faces properly, but he gets the distinct feeling that their wearing some sort of make-up. To him, they look foolish and overly feminine, but then he really should be used to womanly men, considering that his closest friend cross-dresses in his spare time. Still…

Toris sighs and pulls Feliks from the window. "Come on, we'll be late if we don't hurry," he says instead of giving a proper explanation. The shorter man pouted, but followed when Toris started to move down the hall.

.003

They're eying Feliks like he's a piece of high quality meat. They might be eying Toris, too, but he's more distracted by the fact that they are in a completely formal setting and yet such…such disrespect is being shown to _Poland_. He might be their new king, but that doesn't mean he can look at Feliks like he is one of the pretty boys that had followed him out of France. Toris doesn't know how things are run at France's house, but they are certainly different here.

The worst part though is that Francis is doing it, too. It isn't as though Toris isn't aware of France's reputation, and typically he has no real problem with the man's behavior as long as it isn't directed at him. But this is an extremely important event for goodness' sake, and he knew better than to indecently eye a fellow country while attending a coronation.

"Your country is so lovely," the new boss is saying as he bows before the countries he will rule. Toris can't tell if that comment is aimed toward the actual country or Feliks specifically. He's hoping it's the former.

"Lovely indeed," Francis agrees, and there is really no question of what he's speaking of. Either Feliks doesn't know or doesn't care about the unusual attention he's getting, for he accepts the compliments, just the way he always has in such situations—by grinning toward his guests while giving Toris a look that says he would really like to be hiding behind him at the moment. (The blond has always been so shy, it's rather endearing.)

Even as the ceremony goes on, Toris can feel the glances that make their way to his counterpart. Why is he sensing someone's stares when they are not even directed toward him? Really, Toris thinks, perhaps he is getting too protective of his friend? Feliks doesn't need him to protect him all the time, surely.

Toris stays on guard, just in case.

.002

Francis seems utterly amazed by the baths in the castle and Feliks can't understand for the life of him what's so amazing about them.

"So yeah, I can get hot or cold water, big deal," he says and waves the issue away in dismissal. They'd had baths with regulated temperatures for a while now, what is so great about this?

"So much better than the baths at home! Feliks, _mon chèr_, you simply must take one with me sometime."

At this statement Toris, who is feeling just as bewildered by this conversation as his friend is, chokes on the air he breathes in. The two blond nations look at him curiously, and he can't believe that Feliks isn't starting going red and hiding behind him abashedly like he typically does in such situations. A small part of his mind thinks that something suspicious is going on here, but he's too busy sputtering over the indecency of the previously made request to think deeply on the matter.

"He certainly will not do something so…!" A shame, even though he's finally found it in himself to make complete words and string them together, he still can't get a whole sentence out.

"Um, sure, but it's just like, a bath, you know? Nothing special about it."

Oh goodness, he was consenting to getting naked in Francis' presence.

Toris nearly faints.

.001

"These clothes suit you so well," Francis' tone is appraising as he watches Feliks pull on the last bit of the ensemble with adoring fascination. "Though you've neglected to wear the proper ruff."

Feliks rolls his eyes as he looks down on the collar that was supposed to go with the rest of his clothes; It's the longest ruff he's ever seen and he doesn't care how fashionable the size it, it's ridiculous. The rest he likes though; the short breeches, slim-fitting doublet and jerkin, the matching hose, he pulls them off so well. He really doesn't need the damn ruff, or at least he doesn't need one so large.

"You know why I won't wear it?" Feliks asks as he walks- slinks over, really- to the older nation. Somewhere in him he's feeling a bit shy and he wishes he could hide from the eyes that are roving over him, undressing him even though he's just put the clothes on. But he feels a bit excited and the same gaze that makes him so embarrassed also make him feel good, beautiful and like he can have whatever he wants and right now he wants a lesson in French.

"_Non, éclairez-moi, s'il vous plaît_." Francis reaches out welcomingly when Feliks saunters just close enough to be pulled to him. He allows himself to be pulled into the others' lap, allows large hands to roam over his sides.

"Because all your king's little favorites' heads remind me of Saint John's on a platter."

That phrase should not be so exciting, Francis thinks, but it is and he lets the smaller man know this when he pulls his face down for a deep kiss. So quickly do they get involved that they do not even notice they have a visitor until he's passed out in the door way.

Feliks sighs and thinks that he really needs to get Liet back into the habit of knocking before entering his room.

**1. The Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth had actually been "electing" kings since 1386, when they elected Lithuania's Grand Duke as the Polish king. But for some reason, the election is which Henry III was elected is considered the first, probably because all the elections that took place between 1386 and 1573 were really more or less a confirmation for the next king in line.**  
**2. Henry de Valois, a.k.a. Herny III of France, was elected King of Poland in 1573. He was a rumored homosexual, who's favorites were called Les Mignons (the darlings). **  
**3. The mignons were, to put it bluntly, loose 16th century metrosexuals who followed the king around, though they actually had important business to attend to, too. To quote Pierre de l'Estoile, they made themselves "exceedingly odious, as much by their foolish and haughty demeanour, as by their effeminate and immodest dress..." and "they wear their hair long, curled and recurled by artifice, with little bonnets of velvet on top of it like whores in the brothels, and the ruffles on their linen shirts are of starched finery and one half foot long so that their heads look like St. John's on a platter." **  
**4. Apparently, before Henry III's exile to Poland, the French didn't have temperature-regulated baths, or plumbing that brought waste outside of a building, or forks. He brought these back to France with him when he returned, all of three months after he was elected, to take the French throne. **  
**5. This should be number one, but, well. I have no idea where the actual coronation took place, so I just assumed it took place in the same place as the election did. Feel free to inform me of where it really happened, if you know. **

** Poland would so want to try on the mignon's clothes, he just seems like the kinda guy who'd be all for playing dress-up. Liet strikes me as a mothering type, so I think that if France ever came on to Poland, he'd totally be right there to cockblock him. Um...France is France 8D Hope you all enjoyed this~!**


End file.
